


Fragile Like Paper Glass

by GoatBazaarofFics



Series: Keep Your Wits About You [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders Needs a Hug, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Betrayal, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, F/M, Fenris went from strongly disliking Hawke to fist-fighting Hawke in the streets, Fluff and Humor, Justice does too, M/M, Protective Fenris, Red Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-19 16:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11901297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoatBazaarofFics/pseuds/GoatBazaarofFics
Summary: Garrett Hawke takes the deal with the Sloth Demon and Fenris is there to pick up the pieces.





	1. No Sense At All

Anders was crouched down in front of a young elven girl, no older than five, and was in the amidst of healing her wrist when he spotted Fenris wondering into his clinic. His lover carried a basket with him that Anders assumed held his forgotten lunch. His stomach growled loudly at the thought of food. The girl covered her mouth with her uninjured hand and giggled. Anders playfully scowled at her, which caused her to giggle more.

“If Giada is laughing like that, I’m guessing you’re almost done?” Anders glanced up to the girl’s older brother, Liam. They had the same blue eyes and same shaggy brown hair. Though his bird-nest was to hide the fact the tips of his ears were missing. It didn’t help much.

“Actually…” Anders trailed off as he finished mending her bones. When he sensed that she was healed, Anders dropped the spell. “I’m all done now.”

Giada’s eyes lit up and she moved her hand gingerly. “It doesn’t hurt!” She exclaimed. “Thank you!” Like most of his younger patients, she jumped to her feet and hugged Anders around the neck. He gently patted her back, but pulled her off of him when he realized how uneasy the contact was making her brother. She didn’t seem to mind and happily exclaimed, “you’re the best shem ever!” And she took off. Her brother groaned while Anders chuckled, more amused then offended.

“Stay where I can see you!” Liam shouted over his shoulder, though the girl had already stopped. Fenris had stood out of the way from everyone, mostly in hopes no one would talk to him. Because he was the only elf in the clinic other than her and her brother, Giada decided to make a friend. Anders knew Fenris was uncomfortable around small children, it didn’t mean he had to stop himself from awing at the sight.

“Who is that?” Liam asked nervously. With Fenris’s spiky armor, massive sword, striking tattoos, and perpetuate scowl, Anders objectively understood why.

“That grumpy bastard,” Anders used the cot to push himself up to his full height, “is my boyfriend. He’s harmless.”

The teenager’s eyes darted between the two and was unconvinced by Anders’s words. “So, uh, how much?” He awkwardly shuffled his feet, but met Anders’s eyes

Anders placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s free. I don’t charge down here.” Shocked, Liam stumbled over a 'thank you' and left to get his sister, possibly out of fear Anders would change his mind. Giada waved goodbye to Fenris, who in turn awkwardly waved backed. He turned and headed for Anders; surprisingly there was a smile on his face. Justice, who tended ‘rest’ during clinic hours perked up at the hum of lyrium as Fenris neared. He sent images to the forefront of Anders's mind about snuggling with their lover, ignoring how they were in the middle of the clinic. 

Anders didn't listen to the spirit's suggestion. He met Fenris half-way and gave him a quick kiss on top his head. He pulled back and held his hands behind his back, twisting his fingers together out of giddiness. After two months of courting in secret, Anders enjoyed not having to hide his affection for Fenris any longer. “You’re in good spirits today, love.”

Smirking, Fenris whispered, “you should not say something like that around Isabela.”

Anders’s eyes widen and blushed. He harmlessly swatted Fenris’s arm. “That’s not what I meant.” Justice didn’t get the subtle flirtation and pushed Anders to clarify what Fenris said. Anders ignored him, not wanting to have to explain again what flirting was. If it was up to the spirit, flirting would consist of dead Templars and slavers scattering the streets of Kirkwall in a 'righteous act of love'. No, it was best to leave the nuance of romance to himself and Fenris. 

“I am in a good mood, if you must know. The girl just asked if I was Dalish, and I quote, ‘like the weird lady who used to live next door but moved to Hightown with her dumb, hairy shem-friend.’”

Anders clapped his hands over his mouth to keep himself from laughing. “Oh, sweet Maker, that’s terrible,” he said with a grin.

“I see you got your new coat.” There was something to Fenris’s tone that sounded a bit weary.

“It did! I’m so happy that it finally came in! What do you think?” Anders took a step back and held out his arms for Fenris to get a better look. The coat was long, reaching past his kneecaps. Most of the coat was dyed an indigo-blue that faded into a sea-foam green at the end. The straps were black, accented with golden buckles. His collar was loose, but high and was trimmed with a bright, orange finish. The feathers that covered his shoulders were a mix of dark reds, golden-yellows, and deep oranges. The combination reminded him of fall in Fereldan. He was told the feathers came from tropical birds, he just hoped the birds weren’t hurt to make his coat.

 _That would be Unjust, Anders; you should have thought of that before ordering the coat._ Anders shook his head, free of Justice's thoughts. 

Fenris smiled, but it seemed slightly forced. “You look handsome as always. The colors complement your eyes.”

Anders beamed. “You think so? I wasn’t sure about the feathers, but I do love fall colors!” He ran the soft plumage, happy with his choice.

“I do have something we need to talk about, other than how nice your new coat is.” Fenris nodded his head to the side and went over to Anders’s desk with the basket of food. He did his best to avoid the Manifesto, but the paper scattered across the desk. The mage followed and slumped against his chair. “What did you bring me?” He pealed back the white cloth that covered the basket before Fenris could answer. He grabbed the first thing he saw and shoved it in his mouth without even looking. It was a cheese tart, much to his delight. Fenris hated them almost as much as he hated fish, but got them anyway.

“A few meat pies, cheese tarts as you already know, cider and two apples.” Fenris grabbed one apple and bit into with a crunch. He swallowed his bite and stuck the apple in his mouth. He removed his sword and leaned it against the wall behind them. He grabbed a chair and dragged it over. He straddled the chair and resting his head on the back. He pulled the apple out, “Ironically, I ran into the weird lady and her dumb, hairy shem-friend while running errands this morning.”

Anders snorted. He already devoured two cheese tarts and was now nibbling on his third. “That sounds like a awful fairy-tale.”

Fenris grunted. “Sounds like something Varric would write. After reading that trashy serial he wrote about Aveline, I almost regret you teaching me.”

“I know what you mean! I wished I didn’t have eyes after Bela forced me to read her friend-fiction about us.” He gestured between the two of them.

Fenris’s eyebrows furrowed. “She wrote friend-fiction about us?” Anders realized his mistake and shoved the rest of the tart into his mouth. If Fenris found out what she wrote, their group would be down one member. “As I was saying,” he continued slowly, eying the mage, "I ran into Hawke and Merrill. They require help tonight and no, it has nothing to do with her damn mirror.” He added before Anders asked.

“Good, Hawke should have never have asked us the last time. What do they need help with?”

“Do you remember that mage boy Hawke rescued from slavers? The one he sent to the Dalish?” Anders nodded. He was very proud that his friend didn’t take the half-elven boy to the Circle like Fenris and Aveline had wanted. “He told me that the boy has fallen into a deep sleep and is being kept there by demons. Or, I assume he meant demons, because he just called them all spirits. He wants all of us to meet tonight in the Alienage. He said something about going to the Fade and fighting demons there.” Fenris grimaced at the thought, while Justice was excited. Nostalgia and longing swelled up inside Anders, almost overwhelming him. 

Justice could be excited all he wanted, Anders wanted to know more. “Did he tell you how?” Anders grabbed a meat pie since he was done with most of his cheese tarts.

Fenris shook his head. “Merrill said she was taking care of it.” He finished his apple and grabbed a meet pie for himself.

Alarmed, Anders put his food down and straighten up. “Merrill?”

“Yes, why?”

“Fenris, unless she knows any talking darkspawn, there’s only two ways I know of that can get someone to the Fade.”

Fenris lifted his hand up to pause the conversation. “I apologize, but did you just say talking darkspawn? My experience only involves that Deep Road's expedition, but the darkspawn did not talk. ”

“It's a long story. Actually, without that talking darkspawn, I wouldn't have met Justice. But we’ll tell you later,” Anders said flippantly and missed the alarmed expression on Fenris's face. “Anyway, the first way I know how is how the Circle does it. Lots and lots of lyrium. The other way,” he leaned and whispered, “is with blood magic.”

“Fasta vass!” Fenris swore, throwing his hands up in the air. “We’ll have no part of this!” He declared.

Anders leaned back, arms crossed. “We will need to though. Who would put a stop to any madness? Merrill isn’t the type of person who would do what is required for the blood ritual, but she might know a different way using blood magic. If this boy is being hounded by demons, then he doesn’t need her kind of help.”

“Not with Hawke there to enable her,” Fenris sneered, “They all do. Her gullibility will get people killed one day, and they don’t give a damn.”

Anders couldn’t agree more. “I hope the Dalish have better, safer ways then the ones I know of, but if they don’t…Justice and I have to be there. I don’t want to see this boy possessed by a demon because Merrill does something foolish.”

“Or Hawke.”

Anders shook his head. “I know he supports her foul magic, but I think Hawke wouldn’t let it get that far.”

“I’ve watched him make deals with demons before, Anders.”

“I know. I just…” Anders trailed off and looked down his hands.

Fenris put a hand on Anders’s kneecap. “Your trust in that man is misplaced.”

Anders didn’t like where this conversation. Since getting together, Hawke has been the main source of their more serious arguments. He finished his meet pie in one bite and got up. He gave his lover and uneasy smile. “Do you want to stay and help?”

Fenris sighed, but nodded. “If you need me, I'll stay." 


	2. Into the Golden City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Lirene shit talk over tea, Anders's new coat isn't well received by anyone, and nobody wants to go into the Fade.

The clinic had been blessedly slow that afternoon.

Fenris didn’t help Anders directly, instead he worked more with the Fereldan woman, Lirene. They checked patients who needed Anders’s healing, and handed out potions and herbs to those who don’t.  Out of all of the clinic’s volunteers, Lirene was Fenris’s favorite. She reminded him of Aveline, more feminine, but the same harden, no nonsense attitude. She was Maker send for Anders, as well. She kept an ear to the ground for Templars along with Varric. It was a testament how much Lirene cared for Anders that she gave Fenris the ‘you better not harm him, or else’ after seeing him rip a person’s heart out.

Lirene also shared his opinion on Hawke.

“I hate that man,” She told Fenris. “He came to my shop and threatened me to tell him how to find Anders. I told Varric Tethras after some convincing, because I refused to even talk to Hawke after that.”

It was near closing time and there was only one more patient left. An elderly man who had a serious fall had been brought by his son and daughter-in-law and Anders tending to his back. Fenris had long sense put his gauntlets back on and had strapped his sword on his back when it was clear there were no more patients. He and Lirene sat on the empty cots across from each other drinking tea. Another reason why he liked the woman; she actually knew how to brew tea.

“Of course, what else would he do?” Fenris drawled. He didn’t tell her the specific reasons why he didn’t like Hawke, but one comment about the burly rogue was enough to set her off. It was nice to talk to someone other than Varric who shared his views.

“His sister apologized and offered to help, but he didn’t let her. Too many Templars came by looking for Anders he said. Now she’s in the Gallows, Maker have mercy on that poor girl. I would have kept her hidden.” She took a sip, “did you ever get a chance to know Bethany Hawke?”

“I did. She was the first mage I trusted.” Fenris didn’t mention how he used to think she was safer in the Circle. Now, after seeing the physical and mental scars Anders received from the circle, he knew better to think she's better off there instead with her family.

Lirene nodded in understanding. She didn’t know Fenris’s life before Kirkwall, just that he was from Tevinter and that was enough to tell her everything.

“Make sure you take these once a day for the next five days. When you are done, you and your son should come by for a checkup.” Anders led the family to the exit, staff in hand. He handed a small sack of potions to the man’s son.

“Maker’s blessings you, Healer.” The man patted Anders’s shoulder, examined what Anders was wearing. "Healer, you know, my daughter and her husband are seamstresses. Very talented!" His son nodded.

"It's true, Annabela helps makes clothes for the needy for free too." 

Anders's eyes widen in surprise delight, missing what the two men were suggesting. "Oh that's so kind of her! I'll send some patients her way." He waved the family off and turned Fenris and Lirene, eyebrow raised. “You two done gossiping like a couple nobles at tea time?”

“I do not gossip, mage.” Fenris corrected as he stood up.

Lirene downed the rest of her tea and followed suit. “I believe you’re the only person here does, Anders.”

He shrugged. “Well, you’re not wrong. I do enjoy good gossip. There’s a reason why my best friend is a professional liar.”

“I thought she was a professional thief.” Fenris deadpanned.

“Isabela has been downgraded to second best friend after she wrote that friend-fiction. I’m talking about Varric,” Anders gestured to the door. “We’ll walk you home, Lirene; we have to go to the Alienage so it won’t be any trouble.”

“I will not say no to escort this late at night," Lirene looked the mage up and down, "Anders, maybe you should wear something less...flashy."

"Why? I need to show my new coat off. Can't do that if I put it away."

 

The three of them took the lift up. Anders chatted, jumping from one topic to another, to fill the silence. It helped pass the time, but it hindered Fenris’s concentration. Every so often he felt like they were being watched. He also swore he heard the sound of arrows and or bolts flying through the air. It could be his paranoia, he mused. How many times did they attacked by gangs and cutthroats during the evening?

Still, despite his concentration, he didn’t notice that they made it to Lirene’s home. “You two be careful; I better see you two tomorrow.” Startled, Fenris looked up to see Lirene already opened her door. She gave them a stern look that he’d seen mothers give to small children, despite the fact she was Anders age, if not younger.

“Yes, yes, we’ll be fine. You have a good night, Lirene.”

“You too, Anders. Fenris.” He nodded his head at the woman and watched her enter. They waited for the familiar click of a lock before they took off. They didn’t get far from her shop when Fenris did pick up the sound of a flask going off.

“What—

Fenris clamped a hand over Anders’s mouth. He put a finger to his lips in a silent gesture and quietly went where the sound came from. The mage, who was hardly quiet even if his life depended on it, followed behind with much louder footsteps. They crept up to an entrance to a dark alleyway and saw three shadowy figures among several dead bodies, looting them dry. There was an archer, a human man if Fenris had to guess. A woman, with daggers on her back. And a dwarf, in the possession of an impressive crossbow.

“Andraste’s knickers! What happened here?” Anders asked in Fenris’s ear. He scowled up at the mage for shouting in his sensitive ears. Anders ignored him and rounded the corner, dodging a corpse. He squinted. “Oh! That’s a new dress and it’s cute!”

“Saving your pretty asses is what happened. These bastards have been following you two and that woman for blocks now.” Isabela had stood up and swaggered over to them, her hips swayed with each step. Fenris stopped himself from appreciating the tight-fitted black and white striped dress more than he should. She looked at Anders and grimaced. “When you dress like that, it worries me when you complement my clothes. That get up resembles a parrot, sweetheart.”

“I’m just worried period. What the fuck is that?” Varric waived his hand at Anders. “You look like…actually, I have no idea what you look like. This isn’t going in the book, that’s for sure.”

Sebastian looked mildly ill, “it is an interesting combination of colors.”

Anders put his hands on his bony hips. “Mock me all you like, but I got Fenris’s approval this afternoon and that’s what matters to me.”

The three rogues turned their focus on Fenris. He shook his head hastily until Anders looked his way, then he began to nod. Without thinking, he blurted out, “your ass looks great in it.”

Isabela snorted. “Well I guess that’s true.”  

“Of course, it is!” Anders said. “See, his opinion is the only one I need. Anyway, why are you guys out here? Did Hawke tell you to meet him at the alienage too?”

“Oh, no, Blondie. We hang out in dark alleys spreading the Maker’s will. Ain’t that right, Choir Boy?” Varric snarked.

“Ay, it’s all part of Mother Patrice’s new initiative.” Sebastian happily added.

“I can see the Chantry is working hard then,” Anders glanced around them.

“Boys, boys, I love a good snark fest, but we should be going. Hawke can get so grumpy when we don’t follow his plans.” She walked ahead, with the others following shortly after.

“So, you two know what Hawke wants? He just sent a runnier to us.” To those who don’t know Varric, he sounded casual, but Fenris picked up the subtle irritation at the mention of Hawke’s name. Hawke constantly kept Varric in the dark on multiple missions. For a man who prided himself in knowing everything that happened in Kirkwall, Varric being on the out angered him to no end.

“We do actually.” Anders rapidly explained what Fenris told him this afternoon. The only thing he left was the concern they personally had about Merrill’s blood magic.

Sebastian wasn’t happy about any of them going into the Fade. “This is wrong. The Magisters of old stormed the Golden City and gave us the Blight. I can’t condone this mission.”

“Okay, first off, Mister-I-Know-Nothing-About-The-Fade-Or-The-Blight.” Anders held up one finger. “Going to the Fade doesn’t mean we’re going to the Black City. You enter the Fade every time you sleep, this is just like that only deliberate. Second, the Blight didn’t come from evil, spooky Magisters storming the Golden City. It’s probably a metaphor or something that’s been twisted as literal fact by the Devine.” He waved his hand flippantly when Sebastian opened his mouth to protest. “I’ve never seen hide or hair of darkspawn in the Fade. Neither has Justice.”

“Then tell me, Anders, where do the darkspawn come from then if not from the tainted City?”

“Broodmothers.”

“And where do these broodmothers come from?”

“Broodmothers are poor women who are kidnapped and brutalized by darkspawn over and over again until they spit out darkspawn.” Anders stared expectedly at Sebastian, who flinched at the gruesome information. “Got any more questions?”

“I have one,” Isabela’s voice grew dark. “If you knew that happens to women, then why did you let Kitten go down to the Deep Roads?”

“I warned her what could happen. Also told Hawke, Fenris, and Varric that if the darkspawn dragged her off, that they needed to kill her.” He answered bluntly.

“He did warn us,” Fenris jumped in. “Merrill, as naïve as she is in certain subjects, had been First of her Clan and shouldn’t be coddled.”

“Not to end this lovely conversation,” Varric interjected, “but we’re here.” The massive tree loomed overhead. Under it, stood Hawke, Merrill, and Aveline. The Dalish woman was talking the two humans’ ears off. Hawke listened in with mild interest, something Fenris knew well for he too had a talkative lover. Aveline, on the hand, scowled. She wasn’t paying attention to Merrill, instead her focus was at the entrance.

“Finally, what took you guys so long?” She looked Anders up and down. “I see you got your new coat…”

“Yes, I’m very happy how it turned out.” Anders replied as they got closer.

“Only you could pull it off, buddy.” Hawke tried to sound sincere as best he could, but it came across as sarcastic. He turned Fenris, “did you tell everyone?”

“Anders just got done explaining.”

“Great!” Hawke reached over and slapped Fenris’s shoulder. He glared at the contact inched away from the man’s touch. “Since I know Anders is thorough as shit, I don’t have to answer any questions. We can go straight to who wants to join Merrill and me?”

“This is going to be so exciting. I’ve never been in the Beyond before, not like this at least.” Merrill chirped.

Before anyone else could volunteer, Anders spoke up. “I’m going, right? You will need an expert.”

Merrill frowned, “you’re not the only mage here, Anders.”

 “You just said that you haven’t been in the Fade, I have. Twice now. This isn’t my first Harrowing,"  he sneered at her. “But for your information, I wasn’t talking about myself, or did you forget about Justice?” Merrill mouthed 'oh' and stepped back, slightly ashamed for her assumption.

“I guess Ol’ Sparky is the one who really wants to go?” Varric piped up.

“He does, actually. He misses his home.” Anders shrugged.

“So,” Hawke used his fingers to count off who’s going. “Me, Merrill, Justice via Anders. That leaves one other lucky bastard.”

“I refuse. This is sacrilegious, Hawke.” Sebastian stated. “I cannot be a part of this.”

“I agree with, Sebastian,” Aveline moved in closer. “This is a matter for the Circle. You should have sent him there in the first place.”

Merrill gasped. “Oh, no, the Circle will make Feynriel Tranquil if we contact them now!”

At the word Tranquil, the air was filled with the familiar electric tang of Fade magic. Blue cracks appeared across Anders’s body; for a brief moment Justice took over. He retreated as quickly as he came, only to show everyone how he felt about Chantry intervention. Anders shook his head before glaring at Sebastian and Aveline. “Why are they here? They don’t give a blighted damn about helping. They just want to see his mind destroyed.” Fenris fingers twitched. When Anders and Justice were both upset, he discovered rubbing soft circles on Anders’s back calmed them down. The thought of public affection was too much for him, however.

“But if he’s this dangerous we need to go into the Fade and fight his demons, then that’s where he belongs.” Aveline argued back.

Anders pointed a finger at her. “No one belongs to the blighted Circle! You heard Merrill, the Templars would put him to the brand. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Fenris’s eyes darted between Anders and Aveline, his lover and best friend. Is this what Anders felt like when he argued with Hawke? Should he speak up and defend Aveline, or side with Anders?

In the end, Fenris didn’t need to say anything at all. “No one is taking Feynriel to the Circle, Anders.” Hawke said firmly and Anders’s face lit up. “Sebastian and Aveline don’t support this mission. Fine, I’m not going to force you two. Isabela? Varric? Fenris?”

“Uh, no,” Varric said quickly. “Sparky is the closist I get to when it comes to Fade nonsense.”

Fenris and Isabela locked eyes. It was clear that neither wanted to go, but he didn’t want to leave Anders and Justice alone with Hawke and Merrill in the Fade. “I’ll go.” He turned away, and Isabela sighed in relief.  

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Merrill suggested.

“Why not?” Fenris snapped. He felt they had taken too much time arguing when they had a job to do.

“Your lyrium might attract unwanted visitors,” Merrill gestured at Anders. “Isn’t Justice fond of your markings? And when we fight spirits, they swarm you.”

Fenris opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t know how to respond. He looked to Anders to get his opinion. The mage worried his bottom lip. “I hadn’t thought about that. It might cause more problems if you came with us.

“We wouldn’t want Justice get all jealous when one of those purple demons hit on Fenris. You know, the ones with the nice tits.” Isabela held her hands over her chest to demonstrate which ones she was talking about. “I think they’re called Fun Spirits.”

Anders rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You mean Desire Demons.”

Isabela snapped her fingers. “Yeah, those guys!” Her mouth twisted upward into a smirk. “You know, Justice told me that he thought I was a Desire Demon.”

Hawke rubbed his beard. “You know, Izzy, since everyone’s out, that means you’re in by default.”

Her face fallen into a pout. “Well, shit.”


	3. Faded for Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five minutes into the Fade, tension between Hawke and Justice comes to a head.

Justice breathed in the heavy air of the Fade. The mortal realm, for all its beauty, was empty. Out there, in the world of mortal men, there was no taste of electricity was on his tongue, filling his lungs. There was no hum of an endless song, burning his flesh. But this is not his home; he could not feel nostalgic. Not now, not in this place.

This was a stage, crafted by the Dreamer Child, haunted be evil. Justice’s fingers twitched for the handle of a sword or an axe. He felt the demons who sought Feynriel’s mind. They are like insects that crawl over the filth in Darktown’s sewers.

“Justice, how’s it like being back home?” Garrett Hawke hit Justice hard on his back. He frowned at the rogue. It did not matter in the Fade, the contact was not real, but Hawke didn’t seem to care rather or not he could have accidently hurt Anders.

“I did not expect to return in such a manner,” Justice examined the image before him. The Dreamer had conjured the Tower.

“This is the Fade, huh? Why does it look like the Gallows?” Captain Isabela hooked her arm around his. He looked down and then up at her. She winked. He would need to shield her mind from Demons of Desire, or ‘Fun Spirits’ as she had called them.

“It’s what Feynriel’s mind made it to be,” Merrill stood next to Hawke, bouncing on her heels. “This is so exciting!”

“We must not dally, Hawke,” The tendrils of Apathy were spreading across this plain. It was a weak creature, as were all Sloth Demons, but if they gave it an inch, it would become a deadly foe. “I can feel the boy’s mind straining. We must act now.” He freed himself from the pirate walked down the stairs.

Justice got rid of Anders’s staff and feathered atrocity. He conjured his old knight armor and armed himself with a shield and ax.

“Well shit, I see the Phantom Knight has returned! How did you do that?” Isabela bounded after Justice.

“This is a place of dreams. If you have the will, the Fade is of what you make of it.” He answered. Isabela paused, and suddenly she was wearing an admiral’s hat and Rivaini naval uniform. She grinned at Justice; he returned the smile. He found Captain-no-Admiral Isabela to be amusing. He continued forward only to stopped in the middle of the imaginary courtyard. He twisted to the left and growled.

“That doesn’t sound good? What is it?” Hawke asked after getting closer.

Justice pointed to the hallway up above them. “There is a former Spirit of Wisdom who had been corrupted by its own Arrogance. The demon had hunted the boy down, believing itself knowledgeable enough to help. In its quest, it got into a territory spat with the Desire Demon that resides to the right.” He gestured to the right.

Hawke crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, “and I’m guessing we should kill that spirit first?”

“Former Spirit!” Justice’s voice rang out, causing Merrill and Isabela to flinch and move away. “But yes, we need to slay the Pride Demon first. It is our strongest enemy.”

“We should talk to it first, Justice.” Hawke argued.

“I agree with Garrett, we can’t judge them before they do something wrong.” Merrill joined in. “You’re a Spirit of Justice; you’re not being very just right now.”

“There is no talking with such fiends. They only wish to possess and corrupt you.” He warned.

“Like what you did to Anders,” Hawke said. 

“Do not compare what I have with Anders to these monsters!” Justice snarled. He stepped closer, getting into Hawke’s face. “They will destroy mortals’ minds. In your case, Hawke, you have very little to give. You cannot afford to lose any more.” Anders drifted to the surface, pushing gently against Justice’s mind to sooth him. But the spirit knew his mortal was hurt by Hawke’s words. How could Hawke say that? He thought Hawke understood and supported them. Why would he suggest such a terrible thing?

Justice shook his head of Anders’s thoughts and feelings. He will not be swayed by his host.

Hawke’s eyes widen in anger. “You son-of-a-bitch—

“Now, now,” a drawn-out voice echoed around them. “There is no need for petty arguing.” The Sloth Demon appeared from the shadows and glided toward them. He stopped short when he spotted Justice. “It is rare to see two forgotten magics in one day. Usually such a slow place, the Fade.”

Justice stepped between himself and the others. “A Demon of Sloth, it exists to make men forget their purpose and their pride, do not relax around it!” He twirled his ax, ready to strike.  

“And here you were just telling us pride was a bad thing.” Hawke moved from behind Justice and addressed Sloth. “I suppose you wish to make a deal of some kind.”

“You may call me Torpor,” Sloth bobbed up and down, moving and twitching back and forth. “My proposition is a simple one.”

“We’re listening.”

Fenris had cautioned them this would happen. Justice had heeded the elf’s warning and expected it to happen. He never trusted Hawke. Anders, however, thought Hawke was one of his closest friend. The horror that crept upon their shared mind distracted Justice from the rest of the conversation until he heard Hawke ask the demon, “and if I let you have the boy, you will leave the people of Kirkwall alone?”

 “This is a monster!” Justice yelled over Anders’s panicked sobs, “it asks you to sacrifice an innocent to its ambition!”

“I’ve watched you for years sacrifice Anders’s wellbeing for _your_ ambitions. Get off your righteous horse!” Hawke snapped.

Isabela jumped to Justice’s defense. “He has a point, Hawke. I don’t feel right about hurting a child.”

Hawke gave her a calculated stare. “You’re not going to fight me on this.” It was not a question, but a statement.

“No, but I’m sure as shit not going to help you.” She glared.

“Garrett, Vhenan,” Merrill meekly intervened. “Maybe we should reconsider. I don’t want anything bad to happen to Feynriel.”

The rogue swore, “I’m trying to formulate a plan here. We can’t be divided on this.”

“We have out ruled your decision.” Justice stated.

“Tell me,” Hawke pointed a finger in his face. “You traveled with the Hero of Fereldan, called him Commander. Didn’t he ever do something you disagreed with at first and turned out for the better later?”

Justice's mind went to letting the Architect live. He did argue against that decision, but there was a difference between the two men. “Commander Surana had overcame injustices that you will never understand. He is a good man who has done some disagreeable deeds, but you are petty retch who preys on the weakness of others. You browbeat others to do what you want them to do and act without thought. You are no better than the demons who hound the Dreamer.”

Hawke’s expression became blank. He turned to Sloth. “Done. Have the boy.” Anders’s mental screams pounded in the inside of Justice’s mind. He squinted his eyes at his mortal’s anguish.

“This is a creature of complacency, of injustice! I cannot let you treat with it!”

“Fantastic,” if the demon had a face, his grin would be a viscous one. “I grow tired of this demon-hunter, be done with him so we can move on.”

Hawke pulled his daggers and twirled them, “gladly.” Anders recoiled away, and buried himself in self-loathing and despair.

Justice let a roar, boosting his stamina, and charged at the rogue. He slammed his shield into Hawke, knocking him over. He was spread out, motionless. 

“Garrett!” Merrill screamed, but Isabela held her back.

“Stay out of this Kitten, this is just get nastier if you don’t.”

Justice stood over Hawke, ready to send the man back to the waking world, when the rogue disappeared in a puff a smoke. He reappeared behind the spirit, shoving his dagger into Anders’s back.

 

Anders shot straight up. His breathing was labored. His chest was tight and heavy. His body trembled. His head pounded. His back…he ran his hand over where Hawke—

Anders let out high-pitched cry before clamping his hands over his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut. He reached out for Justice, but the spirit shrunk away. Anders felt too much for Justice. It over stimulated the spirit in the worse way.

Anders stopped holding back his sobs at the Justice’s rejection.

“Anders?” He looked up at the sound of his name. Through his tears, he saw Fenris crouched down in front of him. His face was etched with concern. “What happen?” He asked gently.

“I-he…” Anders started, but the words didn’t come. He couldn’t think, or to say. He glanced around, way from Fenris’s large, green, worried-filled eyes. Barely registered anyone else in the room until he saw Hawke lay across from him. In his sleep, Hawke’s face was twisted in anger and contempt. Contempt for him, because surely Anders did something wrong or offended Hawke somehow? Right?

Anders needed to leave. The room was too tight, to small. He couldn’t breathe. He scrabbled away from the circle and bolted out of Merrill’s old house, leather boots hitting stone streets. The cold, night air stung his face, but he ignored the feeling.

He ignored Fenris’s cries to stop as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor in-game dialogue up ahead. Hawke hasn't earned the 20+ rivalry points from Anders yet, but he got 100+ from Justice. And the chapter title is a reference to Solas's quest.


	4. Night Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric tries to push Sebastian to be Anders's enemy so he can sell books. 
> 
> However, no one is worse to Anders then his own mind.

“Broody, when are you going to burn that coat?”

Fenris and Varric sat on Merrill’s old matrass across from each other and Sebastian sat on a chair. They were playing Wicked Grace, Varric always had deck on hand for any occasion. Fenris felt slightly bad about forcing his friend to sit back first against the demonic mirror, but he chose his spot so he could see Anders and the mirror at the same time. Aveline was in the other room with everyone else, lending a comforting hand to Arianni during this difficult time.

Fenris looked up from his cards, “I’m not going to.” The coat in question rested on his; Anders had given it to him to prevent it from getting dirty as he slept. “I will not take away one of the few items he owns.”

“Just get Blondie a new one. One in all black and gold; make him contrast Choir Boy’s white and silver armor.”

Fenris scoffed. “I am not dressing my lover up to fit your weird fantasies, dwarf.” Though, he had to admit Anders in a slim fitted black coat was an attractive idea.

“It is a bit odd you’d suggest such a thing.” Sebastian added. Fenris caught the man tucking a stand of loose hair behind his ear. Something he only did when he had a bad hand.

“It isn’t odd. It’s called story telling. Renegade apostate who fights against an oppressive system that imprisons his people. Exiled prince who finds freedom and acceptance in said oppressive system. It writes itself!” Varric explained. “After Broody had to fuck it up and court the tall bastard, you have to be Blondie’s mortal enemy now.”

“But I do not want to be Anders’s mortal enemy...” Sebastian said, a bit weary where Varric was going to take this. “Despite our disagreements, I quite like Anders. He does the Maker’s work in Darktown and he can be funny when he isn’t being a…”

“A total asshole?” Varric grunted when Fenris kicked him in the shin.

“I would not use that word. More like abrasive.”

Varric glared at the elf across from him. “Listen, Choir Boy, I’m trying to write a novel here. You have to be Blondie’s foil.”

“I thought you were writing a book about Hawke.” Fenris disregarded two cards and drew two more.

“I am, but also one on Blondie. That guy could give me a whole series worth of material.” Then he muttered under his breath. “It’s going to be better than the one I wrote about Aveline that’s for sure.”

“He doesn’t know, does he?” Sebastian asked.

“Of course, he knows. Big mistake telling him that. He demanded the cover be of him being carried into the sunset by a hunky, shirtless man with a horde of kittens at their feet” Varric stopped for a moment. “By the way, Broody, I’m going to need you to do some modelling for me. It’s for a book cover.”

“No.”

Varric shrugged. “Alright, I’ll just ask Hawke do it. Say,” Varric snapped his fingers, “didn’t those two almost had a thing?”  Fenris kicked him again, harder this time.

“You plan many novels; how do you ever finish any?” Sebastian asked.

“Talent and time management skills.” Varric answered through gritted teeth, rubbing his inner thigh. “But mostly talent.”

Fenris opened his mouth to say a biting retort when movement in the corner of his eye. He looked to the other room and saw Anders sat up. His eyes were wide and panicky. Fenris put his cards down, quickly climbed off the bed. He ignored the confused looks he got from Varric and Sebastian and went straight Anders side. He watched Anders slowly reached behind his back, but he couldn’t see what he was doing. Whatever happened to his back, made the man break into a sob. He tried to stop himself from breaking, but a moment later he curled into himself began to cry hard.

Fenris tensed, but with four strides he was Anders side. He never seen his lover like this. He crouched down, and examined briefly Anders’s back, not seeing any wound. Behind him he heard the scrapping of chairs and footsteps. Looked over his shoulder and waved the two rogues back. It was too late to keep Aveline at a distance. She left Arianni’s side, metal clanking with every step. Fenris winced. Her heavy plated armor would make things worse. She went to say something, but Fenris shook his head. She stopped in tracks and held back, but it was clear she wanted nothing more to comfort her friend.

“Anders?” He tries to force his voice to sound as gently he can muster. Anders lifted his head, his eyes were puffy, his cheeks were pick and wet. Fenris didn’t know what he should do. “What happened?” He asked quietly. 

Anders stuttered out, “I-he…” he didn’t finish what he was saying. Fenris’s mind kicked into motion and thought of a million possibilities at once. What could hurt Anders? Did something happen to Justice in the Fade? Anders’s breath hitched. He was tittering on the edge of a melt down

Fenris searched for help, pleading for anyone to help. Varric and Sebastian were uncomfortable. Aveline looked concern, but more upset she didn’t know what to do. Arianni was worried over her son. He caught the Keeper’s eyes, who sat in-between Merrill and Hawke. She looked from Anders, and down at Hawke. Her mouth pressed into a thin line. Fenris followed her gaze; the rogue’s features were twisted in agitation. Somehow, he knew Hawke was involved.

Anders scooted back and stumbled to his feet, and nearly toppled over. Fenris stood up and tried to catch him, but the man caught himself. When he did, he fled from the small house without looking back.

Fenris followed down the stairs, and out of the alienage. “Anders!” He yelled. “STOP!”

Anders didn’t slow down, his long, legs and speed giving him an advantage. Fenris came to stop when he realized that he wouldn’t be able to keep up. He bent down, his hands resting on his knees. His breathing was shallow. He watched Anders disappear.

“Venhedis!” Fenris slammed his fist into a nearby wall, causing it to crack. He looked behind him back where Merrill’s old home was. He frowned. He didn’t have his sword, nor Anders’s staff and coat. He didn’t know rather Anders fled to his clinic or their home in Hightown. He thought for a moment to go back and grab their weapons and Anders’s coat. Maybe plunge his hand into Hawke’s chest.

But if Fenris feared that in Anders’s panic state would make him a target for street thugs. Or Templars.

With his decision made for him, Fenris took off to Hightown.


	5. Unlit the Gas-Lamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris gains a new insight into Anders and Hawke's 'friendship'.

Anders pushed open his and Fenris’s bedroom door and stumbled onto their bed. He sat on the edge, head in hands. His sides and stomach burned from running. He shouldn’t have bolted the way he did, but humiliation and guilt were what kept his feet moving once he started.

What did Hawke always tell him? Anders was too emotional and it embarrassed for everyone. Anders realized half way through his fleeing, he overreacted to what happened. It was something he always did. Exaggerating this issue or that issue, worsening the problem. What happened in the Fade was his fault. Hawke constantly told him over and over again that any disagreements between him and Justice could be solved if Anders had better control over his emotions. And it was Anders’s fault. He had known for years that his moods off-balanced, but Hawke made him realized how erratic he truly was. Maker, Anders didn’t even stop to grab his coat or staff and ran around Kirkwall sobbing like the madman he was.

Hawke was right about so much. There had been that time when Anders learned of the Tranquil Solution, and just like Hawke, it was just another one of Anders’s delusions. It hadn’t been any real issue. Like in the Fade. It was mistake, a misunderstanding. Hawke said he had a plan, didn’t he? Justice had taken Hawke’s comments wrong. That’s all. Tomorrow, his friend will come by and confirm it. That it had been a trap and Justice didn’t see the brilliance behind Hawke’s actions. Yes, the other man said terrible lies about Anders and Justice, and he will tell Hawke off for that, but that didn’t mean Anders needed to have meltdown like some five-year-child.

Anders winced at the waves of disapproval from Justice. “Where were you earlier?” Anders asked out loud, more like he shouted, but he didn’t care. “I’m right, you know? It’s rare, I get it. Hawke has to point it out when it happens to encourage me to think more. So, I know it comes to a shock that I’m right, but you didn’t even stop and hear about Hawke's plan.” The spirit grew angrier with every word, but Anders pushed Justice down. He wasn’t in the mood.

Anders lifted his head, glanced around the room, until his eyes landed on the full body mirror Fenris had in the corner. He got up and stalked over. His shoulders drooped at his reflection. His eyes were puffy and red. They were weighed down by deep circles. His hair was a mess. Anders ran his fingertips over the cool surface. He touched his reflection, and dragged his fingers downward. He left smudge marks behind, smearing the image. His nose was crooked and bird like. He was blighted ugly; how did someone like Fenris got stuck with someone like him?

Caught up in his thoughts, Anders didn’t realize Fenris returned home.

 

Downstairs, Fenris searched each room. He was in one of the many back rooms when he heard a creek overhead. He dashed up the stairs, taking two at a time. He pushed the door to their bedroom with more force than he wanted too.

“Andraste’s knickers!” Anders shrieked.

Fenris was half way into their room before he spotted Anders against the wall, wide-eyed and hand clutching chest. In a second, he wrapped his arms around Anders’s middle into a tight hug. He leaned back slightly, so he could look Anders in the Eye. “Don’t scare me like that ever again.”

“I’m sorry?” Anders sounded confused.

Fenris huffed and nuzzled tall man’s chest. Slowly, Anders returned the hug and buried his face in Fenris’s soft hair. “Stupid, foolish mages.” He muttered before stepping back. He quickly took off his armor and tunic and left them on the floor. He helped Anders get undress, planting soft kisses on Anders’s scruffy cheeks and jaw, his neck, and chest while he did so. They were sweet and chaste. When he was done, he grabbed Anders’s hand and led him their bed.

Fenris waited until they were both under the covers and in each other’s arms before he spoke. “What happened tonight?” Anders rested his head on Fenris’s chest, his head tucked under the elf’s chin. Fenris ran his hand through his hair, neck and then down his back, brushing over his jagged scars.

Anders sighed and took a few minutes to speak. In that moment of silence, Fenris was struck with how familiar the situation was. Over a month ago, Fenris had his confrontation with one of his abusers, Danarius’s top apprentices, Hadriana. Anders hadn’t been there and came to the mansion to find him very drunk and unresponsive. He taken care of Fenris when Fenris needed it; now it was Fenris’s turn to take care of him.

When Anders did respond, he was unnervingly quiet, “I don’t know where to start.”

“Start from the beginning.” He massaged the mage’s tense back.

“Alright," he swallows, "the second we entered the Fade, Justice took over. It was actually nice transition compared to other times. He sensed multiple demons harassing the boy. He told the others…and Hawke suggested we try talking to them first before we do anything else.” Fenris’s jaw tighten. He knew it. He fucking knew that would happen. He should have been there. He stayed quiet to let Anders finish, but he itched to verbalize his disgust. “Justice didn’t like that. Neither did I. I know you warned me, but I didn’t want to believe it. Hawke kept pushing we talk to the demons first. It escalated into an argument, between Justice and Hawke I mean. A nasty one…some of things he said about Justice, about me…”

His heart sped up, “what did he say?”

He felt Anders cringe under his arms. “He compared Justice to both a Pride and Sloth demons," he pauses, "the Sloth Demon is what really pissed Justice.”

“Kaffas,” Fenris muttered under his breath. He knew how much Justice despised the concept of sloth. He argued with the spirit than he did with Anders, but when they did have a fight, it was because Justice could not mentally grasp simple things like sleeping in, or a day off. Or because Fenris drank too much. He could only imagine what mental rant Anders was dealing with right now. “Did Hawke make any deals with the demons?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it first.

“Oh, Maker, it was terrible.” Anders sat up and twisted around to see Fenris. Tears run down his face. “The Sloth Demon stated outright that he wanted to possess the boy and Hawke sided with it.”

“He let Feynriel become possessed by a demon?” he growls the question out.

Anders bit his lip for a second. “I don’t know. He sent us back to the Fade before anything else happened.”

“How did he do that?” he asks

He didn’t answer at first, instead he lazily traced patterns into the bed. “He attacked Justice. He stabbed us.” He's voice is so quiet.

Fenris sat up, the words sinking in. “What?” His voice was barely above a whisper, he attempts to keep his temper in check.

“He attacked us. He attacked _me!”_ His voice cracked. “I thought I was his friend. Why would he choose a demon over me?" he's pleading for answers that Fenris can't give. "Do you think I did something wrong? I didn’t do anything to deserve this, did I?”

Fenris’s heart dropped. Anders’s face was open, his feelings were bare. He truly believed it was his fault that Hawke hurt him tonight. Fenris felt too much all at once. Horror, disgust, and fury mixed together into a terrible emotion he never experienced before. And it was all for Hawke. This hate was different then what he felt for Danarius, Hadriana, and or any magisters who used and abused him. Or the nameless Templars who harmed Anders in the past. This was another kind of beast, and he had no word for it. He just knew he was going to make Hawke pay.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It would do Andres no good if he flew into a fit of rage. “Anders, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He gripped Anders’s shoulders and forced Anders too look him in the eye. “Do you understand me? Hawke made the deal, he’s the one who hurt you; please, tell me you understand.”

After a moment Anders nodded. He inched closer until he sat in Fenris’s lap. He kissed him on the lips, draping his arms around Fenris’s neck. He pulled back slightly. His eyes were crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “you’re too good to me.”

Fenris frowned. He didn’t like it when Anders talked about himself this way. He peppered Anders in kisses once more, moving from his lips to up his jaw. He stopped when got to Anders’s ear. “Let me show you what you deserve; let me make love to you.” He murmured. He dropped his attention to Anders’s neck, nipping just above the collar bone.

Anders shuddered on top of Fenris, gripping his hair. “Yes, I want that, please.”

 

Justice didn’t know how much time passed. He retreated into the back of Anders’s mind and decided to let his mortals have their moment. He barely accepted his own baser desires when he was in a good mood, after Hawke’s betrayal, he couldn’t trust himself. He waited until Anders had drifted to sleep before he pushed forward. He rid his host of any Warden nightmares. The darkspawn were terrible tonight, a rare occurrence after Fenris and Anders are intimate.

Justice battled a nightmare of a darkspawn that resembled the Architect and slumbered like an archdemon. When he finished, Justice replaced it with a simple dream that would make Anders happy when he woke up: Fenris was experience his first snow. Either from his perspective or Anders’s, Fenris being awestruck by a real winter was rather adorable. Justice pushed further until he was at the forefront of Anders’s mind. He inched his way into control. He opened his eyes to see Fenris’s sharp profile. His eyes twitched and his mouth formed a scowl at the sudden light.

Justice felt guilty for what he was about to do, but he wished to speak to Fenris without Anders knowing. He lightly grabbed Fenris’s shoulder, and shook him awake.

Fenris blinked, then slammed his eyes shut. He covered them with his hand. “Spirit,” he groaned, “we talked about this.”

“I apologize,” Justice dimmed his natural glow, “I need to speak with you.”

Fenris sat up slowly. Fenris cracked his neck, yawned, and then reached for a bottle of wine that he always has on his nightstand. Justice frowned but didn’t say anything as Fenris downed the rest of its contents. When he finished, he turned to face Justice. “There’s no need for that…I am the one who needs to apologize. I neglected you.”

Justice sat up as well, the sheets falling off him. He shivered at the cold and summoned heat to warm up the room. “I do not need comfort like Anders,” he stated. “I also needed to be alone; Hawke’s betrayal was expected, but it enraged me still.”

“I can empathize.” Fenris turned the bottle in his hands and Justice wondered if he will get up and get another bottle. He would have to stop him if he tried.

“I do not think you are fully aware how much contempt I have for Garrett Hawke,” Justice said, “he has been nothing but cruel to Anders ever since he entered the clinic.”

Fenris tilted his head to the side in confusion, his hair fell into his eyes. “I do not understand. Up until now, he has been Anders’s friend. What do you mean?”

Justice shook his head. “Anders believes he’s to blame because Hawke’s verbal abuse that started on the first day they met." He starts to list off the offenses. "Hawke went to the clinic and threatened Anders for the maps to the Deep Roads. He belittled Anders’s response to what happened with Karl Thekla—

“I'm sorry,” Fenris held up his hand, “but Karl Thekla was Anders’s former lover?”

“Yes.”

“The one that asked Anders to kill him?”

“Yes.”

Fenris pulled his hair back, revealing three lyrium dots on his forehead. He takes a stead breath, “continue.”

Justice did so, “Hawke also mocked Anders’s reaction to…what happen with that girl Ella.” Everyone in their group knew the story about Ella, even they weren’t present for that mission. “He called Anders delusional when Anders expressed fear over the Tranquil Solution. When it was proven that it was a real threat, Anders downplayed what was happening to the mages in the Gallows.” Justice paused for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to phrase the next bit. “For year that Hawke tried to court Anders, he was sexually inappropriate.” He felt ashamed that he hadn’t intervene sooner.

Fenris’s gripped the bottle tightened to the point Justice feared Fenris would shatter it and injure himself. Justice pulled the bottle from Fenris’s trembling hands and sat it on Anders’s night stand. Fenris took a deep breath. “What do you mean by ‘sexually inappropriate.’”

“The first instance had been the night after what happened with Karl.” Justice counted off with his fingers, a habit he learned from his host, “Anders told Hawke about me and Hawke’s comment was bizarre. It was something a ‘sexy, tortured look’, I believe.” Fenris was bewildered as he had been. Justice was glad to know he was right to think it was abnormal. “He would say other odd things to Anders. He confined about how he was taken to the Circle, and Hawke’s only response was to make the conversation about him. Then he started touching Anders, touches that made Anders uncomfortable.”

Terror flashed in Fenris’s eyes. “Tell me that he hadn’t...? He didn’t? Please, tell me he didn't do that to Anders.” He begged.

Justice wasn’t sure what Fenris feared Hawke had done to Anders, but he wouldn’t lie to Fenris. “Before you went on the Deep Roads expedition, Hawke had gone to the clinic for a private celebration. He…he forced himself on Anders.” Justice involuntary shuddered at the forced kiss that night. It scared Anders and himself, but for different reasons.

Fenris’s expression went blank, then slowly, it morphed into unchecked fury. “I’m going to kill him.” His voice was low and dark, filled with promise. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”  His brands lit up and the quiet hum of lyrium turned to screaming choir that left Justice intoxicated.

In one fluid motion, Fenris flew out of their bed. He rushed to where he left his gauntlets and hastily put them on. He stormed out the bedroom door, leaving a lyrium-idled Justice behind. Without the lyrium there, however, the spirit realized what Fenris had said and he stumbled out of bed after him.

Justice stopped at the top banister and leaned over, he grasped the railing hard. “Fenris!” He bellowed. Fenris, who was already down the stairs. Fenris didn’t even look over his shoulder as marched down the hall. Justice ran down the stairs after the elf.

Fenris was about to leave when Justice came up behind him, and slammed the door closed. “Fenris, you cannot kill Hawke!” Justice’s voice boomed in the narrow hallway.

“Why the fuck not?” Fenris screamed back, something he rarely did.

Justice grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “You are not wearing any pants!”

The answer threw Fenris off. His brands flickered and dimmed as his anger subsided. “What?”

“You forgot your pants.” Justice said, calmer now. Fenris looked down and realized he only put on his gauntlets. Other than that, he was utterly naked. Justice filed the image away to share with Anders when his host was in a better mood.

“Oh.” He looked up with a fierce glare. “I’ll get dress and then I will kill Hawke.” He tried to pull away from Justice’s grip, but the spirit wouldn’t let go. “What are you doing? That bastard deserves to die!” He lit his brands and phased out of Justice’s hand. “I’m going to rip his fucking heart out, and if that witch tries to stop me, I’ll feed it to her.”

“I do not understand why you wish to kill Hawke.”

“Fasta vass!” Fenris threw his hands up in the air and began to pace. “That fucker raped Anders! I want to make him suffer!”

Justice’s mouth dropped. Fenris believed…? He thought about what he had said and realized he misspoke earlier. “He kissed Anders!” Justice shook his head and held up his hands. “When I said Hawke forced himself on us, I meant a kiss. It scared Anders; I took over and told Hawke to leave. He did nothing more.”

“He didn’t do nothing else?” Fenris put his hands on his hips. “He just kissed him?”

“Do you think if Hawke intended to harm Anders in such an insidious manner, we would be having this conversation?” The thought alone angered Justice. He would have ended Garrett Hawke if he…Justice refused to think about it and pushed thought of his mind.

Fenris deflated with relief. He slumped against the wall, his hand over his heart. “I feared-I thought-he. It doesn’t matter. It didn’t happen.” He pushed himself off the wall, went to Justice and hugged him. The spirit awkwardly returned the hug and patted the elf’s back.

“We should go back to bed.” He muttered.

“I’m still going to break Hawke's face.” Fenris’s words were muffled, with his face buried into Anders’s narrow chest.

“I find that acceptable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone worried, Hawke is in a very healthy and loving relationship with Merrill. It's just this Hawke has issues with his sexuality and took his problems on Anders, which isn't good because Anders also has problems with his sexuality. I mean, Anders has problems in general, but Garrett's internalized homophobia wasn't helpful. 
> 
> One more chapter and I will return to Time Can't Change Everything.


	6. Law Breaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris tries to make Anders feel better by taking him shopping in Hightown; it goes as well as anyone could expect.

Anders awoken to a stiff neck and back. He quietly groaned; Justice had taken over last night again. He knew the second his eyes opened to the cracked ceiling instead of Fenris’s sleeping profile. Justice, whether or not intentionally, would force him to sleep like a solder. Stock still. Anders sat up, his spine popped and snapped as he did so. He yawned and stretched his arms, but was startled when his hand hit something fleshy that let out a loud grunt of pain.

Anders covered his mouth, eyes wide with guilt. He turned to see Fenris awake. He glared and rubbed his nose. “I am so sorry. Do you want me to kiss it better?”

“No.” Fenris’s reply was curt and agitated, and adorable in Anders in humble opinion.

“Well, I’m going to anyway.” He ignored the elf’s attempts to push him back as he leaned in. It into a struggle. Anders grabbed Fenris’s wrist, lips puckered. Fenris fell back and swatted at him with his free hand. He used his knees to keep Anders back. It didn’t last; the elf could easily over power the mage in under second and that meant he let the other man win. The second Anders’s lip touched the tip of Fenris’s nose, he activated his spell Panacea. He knew the spell did more for Fenris than anyone else.

Fenris sighed and hugged Anders. He slumped against Fenris’s chest and returned the gesture. “How are you feeling?” Fenris stroked his hair while he asked, which made it easy to lie.

The spirit that resided in his head didn’t, however. Justice’s pushed for honesty in their relationship hindered any attempts for Anders to hide even simple things. “I’m better than I was last night. I want to stay in bed though.” Soothing waves came deep from within his mind, telling him laziness would be find for a day. Anders appreciated Justice acceptance, but he knew staying in bed would just make it worse.

Fenris knew that too. “We can take a walk and get some breakfast.”

His stomach growled at the mention of food. “I like the sound of that.”

“We should visit Varric and Isabela at the Hang Man. They probably have our stuff.”

“Yeah…wait.” Anders pushed himself upward. “Our stuff? Did you leave your sword at Merrill’s house?”

Fenris scowled. “Of course, I did. I was worried about you, I didn’t care about some damn sword. I can replace a sword.”

“Awww!” Anders cooed, and dropped back down onto Fenris and hugged him tightly. “You’re my grumpy, little snuggle-bug, aren’t you?”

There was a pregnant pause, “mage, if you ever call me that again, I’m kicking you out of my home.”

“Oh, hush you.” Anders rolled off of him and dropped his spell. He was about to get out of bed when he spotted the bottle of wine on his night stand. He picked it up and showed it to Fenris. “Why is this here?”

Fenris took it from him, but didn’t answer. “Go get dress, mage.”

“I’m going to make myself look pretty to feel better, so don’t get annoyed when I take a while,” Anders warned. He went their closet. Actually, it was his closet. Fenris just left his clothes lay scattered across the floor and he only had a small selection of tunics and leggings that he didn’t need a closet anyway. Anders, on the other hand, loved clothes and once Justice learned that his vanity didn’t mean he was succumbing to Pride and Desire, he collected as much he could. It wasn’t many, not compared to what he owned when he was with the Wardens, but enough. Most were robes they lifted off dead blood mages. He did have a few dresses and tunics that he bought on impulse. These little buys were the reason why it took so long for him to order a new coat. Thank the Maker he had Justice there to remind him of his clinic when they passed market stands, or Anders would spend coin he didn’t have on more useless stuff.

He looked through his small collection of dresses one, two, and three times before he decided on his favorite dress. It was tight on his hips and stomach, but loose on his chest. The short sleeves hung off his shoulders and the slits on the sides were cut so high they showed off his hip bones. It was red with a black floral pattern. He gotten it on the day he lost his old coat. He slipped it on and grabbed a pair of thick tights to cover his legs. And because Justice always whined about lack of armor, he put on a leather armor vest. That was enough protection?

When Anders was done, he turned around just as Fenris was entering their bedroom. He was fully dressed, including his gauntlets. “Where did you go?”

“I took a piss and bushed my teeth.”

He snapped his fingers. “I should do that before we go!” He rushed passed Fenris, slid across the tiled floor. He caught himself on the door frame and stumbled into the washroom.

“Stop tripping over your feet, mage,” he heard Fenris call after him.

 

As always, the Hightown market stands were busy. Fenris hated the crowds and most human nobles hated any elves in their markets. In hindsight, they should have gone to Lowtown for breakfast. Fenris didn’t care, having experienced far worse than knife-ear comments or sneers. His appearance was too frightening for any pearl-clutching noble to order him around, if anything he found it amusing. Anders, being the soft-hearted fool that he was, kept on muttering about stupid racists. When the words ‘unjust’ and ‘oppression’ appeared in his whispered rants, Fenris knew that Justice was awake and irritated. There went his plans to help Anders’s mood. He figured food was the best way to distract Anders; the only way he could divert Justice’s attention is they ran into any other forms of injustices.

“What do you want to eat?” Fenris asked. He regretted it once he remembered how indecisive Anders could be.

 “Uh…something sweet? No spicy. Oh, maybe salty? Actually, I want spicy. No wait, sweet. But some spiced meat sounds good. But then again....” Anders thought for a moment. “Why don’t you choose, I can’t decide what I want. You know what I like anyway; I’m not picky. I mean, I’d prefer it if you picked spicy, but sweet is good too. Like cakes or muffins. Oh! Let’s see if anyone is selling blueberry muffins!” He smiled hopefully.

His comment was loud enough for a baker because they were waved down by a skinny man with orange hair. “We sell all kinds muffins, tarts, cakes, sweet-rolls, and anything else you could want.” His accent betrayed the fact he was from Fereldan, which explained why his stand had no costumers.  Anders skipped to the stand, his hair fluttering behind him, while Fenris trailed behind. “Most of my goods were made yesterday, a bit of warning.”

It didn’t matter to Anders that the baked goods were a day old. He was practically drooling over the large selection of muffins. “Hmmm, no blueberries, but you got raspberries! I haven’t had those since I was with the Wardens.”

The baker looked stunned. “You’re Warden?”

“Yes. Uh you see, uhm, my Commander sent me here to work with the refugees in Darktown.” Fenris faced-palmed at Anders inability to lie.

“Then you’re the?” His faced morphed recognition, He grinned broadly. “I didn’t recognize you! Two years ago, you delivered my son and kept my wife alive. The name’s Aric, and my wife’s is Erianthe.” Fenris’s ears picked up; his wife’s name was Dalish.

Anders thought for a moment and returned the smile. “Yes, I remember you! How’s your family?”

“They are doing great. Erianthe nor my boy wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for you. Why we just found out we’re expecting another.”

“That’s lovely, and of course, you will coming by for checkups?”

“Of course, we will; not that there many options for us.” A frown appeared over his face, but his expression brightened. “So, what can I get you?”

“Well, I’ll take two raspberry muffins, three sweet-rolls, three slices of cinnamon cakes, and oh! Are those cheese tarts? Four of those please! What do you want, love?” Anders turned to him, his eyes bright. Fenris couldn’t appreciate the mood change, however, as he was too busy morning his soon-to-be-empty coin purse.

After Fenris payed the baker for their breakfast and Anders gave thorough instructions for some pain the man was having on his side, they took off. Fenris spotted Aveline’s lover and fellow member of the guard, Donnic Hendyr. He was on duty, Fenris realized, as he watched the guardsman scan the area. Possibly looking for a thief.

“We should visit their store in Lowtown sometime,” Anders said after he inhaled all three of his rolls. He held the bag of breakfast in arm and in his other hand one of the cakes.

Fenris nibbled on his own breakfast. “It will be after next Wicked Grace night.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know it would cost so much,” Anders looked sheepish. “Speaking of which, since we plan on going to the Hangman, I need to see Lirene. Explain why I’m not at the clinic today.” He then shoved the cake into his mouth. He tried speaking, it came out muffled and unrecognizable as words.

“Kaffas, swallow, mage.” He chastised.

“You heard the man.” A familiar voice came behind them. They turned around to see Isabela walking from around a stand selling jewelry. She wore a purple hat that Fenris noticed still had a tag attached. “He wants you to swallow.” She smirked and wiggled her eyebrows when she got closer.

Anders did as he was told. “Isabela, what are you doing out and about this fine morning.”

“Oh, you know, browsing. And stealing. Lots of stealing.” She answered flippantly. “Glad I caught you two. Varric has your stuff,” she pointed to the mage, “and Lady-Manhands has your heavy ass sword.” She looked at Fenris. “I tried taking it myself, you know, to sell it. Couldn’t lift it.”

“How terrible for you," the elf deadpanned.

“You’re damn right.” She huffed, but deflated quickly. She gazed at Anders, “listen, sweet thing, we need to talk.”

“Alright, but I’m not going to like it.” Anders answered.

“No, no, you’re not.” Isabela led them to a secluded area of the Market square. However, it was hard to do so when she ducked in and out of sight in her attempt to avoid the guard. She reappeared in a wide gap between two noblemen’s homes. “You think Aveline’s boy-toy saw me?”

“You mean Donnic? Why would he—Maker, what did you steal?” Anders asked as he slid in next to her. He dug through their bag and pushed a cheese tart into his mouth this time. Fenris stood in front of the gap to block any guard’s view of the pirate.

“Other than this hat?” Isabela pointed to it, “coin, jewels, other things.” She slumped across the wall, arms crossed. “Right, so I’m guessing you want to know what happened after you left?” Anders nodded. “Well, after everything that happened and you disappeared, Hawke freaked out. He felt like utter shit; doesn’t make it right, but I think that demon got him. We all know Hawke likes to take the easy road, that’s why he’s always doing these crazy schemes to get rich and stay rich.”

Fenris sneered. “What a saint.”

Isabela leaned forward to get a better look at him. “You weren’t in there. Those blighted demons really know how to get to you.”

“You fell for the Desire Demon,” Anders stated, guessing correctly

“And Kitten fell for the Pride Demon.” She added.

“You three did a great job last night.” Not once did Fenris thought he could be this angry at Isabela, but he wanted nothing more to throttle her. “It was mistake letting you go.”

That just pissed the pirate off. “Oy, you think you could have resisted a demon?” She jabbed an accusatory finger in his face.

“I’ve resisted Desire Demons before.” He answered coolly.

“What about a Pride Demon? You sound pretty damn arrogant, all high-and-mighty, judging us. It wasn’t easy telling them no.” 

Fenris opened his mouth to retort, but stopped. Would he resist a demon’s offer? If he had been forced to go through a Harrowing like Anders had, would he be able to face down a demon and tell them no if it was the right kind? He looked down, unable to answer.

“Maybe Fenris doesn’t have the right to judge any of you, but I sure do.” Anders snapped, but he didn’t rant as he was prone to do. “Forget about the what if’s. What happened to Feynriel?”

Isabela looked down and expected her feet. “He got scared by the demons…and he asked Hawke to make him Tranquil.” Anders didn’t speak. He simply pushed passed Fenris, his head lowered and his fingers created tears in the bag. Isabela glanced up and met Fenris glare. “We fucked up last night, didn’t we?”

Fenris didn’t answer and followed after Anders. He didn’t have far to go as he ran right into the man. He stumbled back, the mage stumbled forward, but they both caught themselves. Fenris moved around and to see what made Anders stop in his tracks.

It was Varric, Sebastian, and—

Fenris balled his hands into fists. His brands were set ablaze. He let out a snarl, “Hawke.”

 

“And that’s what really happened, Captain.”

“Bullshit, Varric, you know damn well that’s not what happened!” Aveline yelled.

Varric had the gall to look offended. “How are you going to tell me what I saw with two eyes? It’s my story and I’m sticking with it.”

Aveline growled. “That’s it! You’re under arrest!”

“For what?”

“For obstruction of justice.”

“I would never! I appreciate Justice as much as the next guy,” Varric turned toward Anders then back at Aveline. “Okay, maybe as much as the next guy, but I still like Justice.”

Aveline let out a roar that would frighten a charging bear.

Anders covered his face and shook his head. On the ground sat Fenris, handcuffed. His nose was broken and bleeding. His left eye was swollen shut and his cheek was yellow and purple. Hawke was physically worse off. He had been escorted him by two guardsmen back to his home where Merrill could tend to his wounds. Bruised ribs, a broken arm and ankle, a black eye, and because Anders couldn’t heal either of them, Hawke now had a scar across his nose. It was disgusting, jagged red line and it would take forever to fade, if at all. It wasn’t just the two men who were bad shape, several stands were destroyed in the fight. Not to mention the frightened nobles that have formed a crowd whispering about the ‘crazy knife-ear’ who attacked an ‘innocent’ noble while he was shopping.

“Now, Aveline, maybe you should calm down,” Sebastian tried to pacify the woman. He too was in cuffs and sitting on the ground. He attempted to pick Fenris’s lock while Varric told Aveline his version of events.

It didn’t go well at all.  

She reeled onto the former prince. “Watch it, Vael! Do you want me to tell the Grand Cleric why her favorite _Choir Boy_ didn’t show up to practice?”

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “You wouldn’t?”

“Don’t test me!” She spun to Varric, “and you!” She shoved Varric to the ground, forcing him to sit right next to Fenris. “Unbelievable. I can’t believe I’m arresting three of my friends.”

“Four, Captain. Four of your friends.” Donnic pushed through the crowd, hand on Isabela’s shoulder.

“I was putting them back.” Isabela said. She was led to the rest of them and sat right next to

“Maker’s breath.” Aveline pinched the bridged of her nose. “I don’t even want to know what you did.”

“Aveline,” Anders pleaded, “please, is all of this necessary?” He gestured to Fenris. It broke his heart seeing Fenris like this and unable to heal him. And Justice, who felt Fenris acted righteously, didn't grasp why Fenris was being arrested in the first place.

“Anders, your boyfriend picked up a cabbage stand dropped it on Hawke’s head,” Aveline reasoned.

“He deserved it,” even under arrest, Fenris was blunt as ever.

“Broody’s got a point. Hawke’s a fucking jackass.” Varric jumped to his defense. Sebastian and Isabela nodded in agreement.

“I don’t care if Hawke deserved it or not. You can’t just beat people up in the middle of the streets.” Aveline scolded Fenris like a mother would a child.

Anders got closer and did his best to whisper. “At least let me heal him. Look at his eye, he could go blind if he doesn’t get any treatment.”

She gripped his shoulder. “You know you can’t. There’s too many witnesses. I’m sorry, Anders.” And she did look sorry. “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of. Go home and get some rest.” She went to Fenris and pulled him to his feet and led him off. The other guardsmen dragged the others behind them, but Anders’s eyes were only on his lover’s retreating form. Fenris didn’t even look back.

Anders scoffed and folded his arms. Who did Aveline think he was? Some delicate, little mage-flower? He’s broken into the Gallows hundreds of times for total strangers. He wasn’t going to let his lover rot in some cell in Viscount’s Keep.

But Anders would need help and if Garret Hawke ever wanted his forgiveness, the rogue was going to work for it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who read this short little fic. The support means a lot to me.


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